Hopeless Dreams
by thediamonddog29
Summary: The prison has fallen and the group is scattered. Now, the most unlikely duo, Beth and Daryl, have been cast out into the Georgia countryside, fighting for their lives and for security in a vicious, post-apocalyptic World. They will face a myriad of struggles and form a complicated relationship, all whilst sharing that one optimistic dream. Will it ever come true? (Alternative 4b)
1. Chapter 1: Run

**Title: **Hopeless Dreams.  
**Author:** Myself.  
**Fandom: **The Walking Dead  
**Rating:** M for adult themes, violence, bad language.  
**Pairing:** Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene (Bethyl)  
**Disclaimer:** Much to my dismay, I do not own The Walking Dead, Beth Greene or Daryl Dixon, though I wish I did. This is set after **Too Far Gone in Season 4.**

**Hello! This is my first entry here, I hope you like the beginning to what I hope will be an exciting, tense and adorable fanfic of this cutesy pairing.**

**Please rate and leave comments- constructive criticism and compliments are both a joy to receive, I'd also like to know how many people would like to see this continue and see what happens next! :)**

**ALSO: I'd also like to point out that I am from England, and though I have tried to make the story as American-sounding as possible due to its setting etc, I have still spelled words using British English so don't think I'm an idiot who can't spell lol!**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter 1: Run.**

* * *

"We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go."

The conviction in his voice let her know he wouldn't take no for an answer. His eyes pierced hers, burning through her and willing her to find strength to run. Turning back one last time to scan the prison yard for a trace of her family, she could see a dozen walkers ambling closer to them. She found that strength by some miracle, and she ran. They both ran and ran and ran, until Beth felt like her lungs were going to collapse and the contents of her stomach empty all over herself. She was sore from the constant slapping of the carbine rifle against her back. Daryl, as fit as he was, could feel his legs aching so terribly he thought they might disintegrate. Hours might have passed, they still hadn't stopped. Hadn't gotten a chance to, seeing as walkers plagued their path at every turn.  
"Damn" he thought. Those bastards probably heard every explosion, every gunshot and every scream from the prison, most likely they were shuffling in that direction from miles around.  
"Daryl! Daryl..." Beth whimpered, slowing her pace to a stop. He turned around and was met with a dishevelled Beth with bright red eyes, doubled over with both pain and distress. "We gotta go back... We can't... Daryl, we need to go back" she cried, tears now streaming down her cheeks.  
"We can't. Don't you understand that we can't? You saw how that was, there's nothing left there" was his harsh reply.  
Through sobs she pleaded "please, we've got 'ta, we-".  
"What part of 'we can't' don't ya get? There's ain't nothing there to go back to!" he spat.  
At this Beth cried even harder, so hard that she couldn't breathe, and her whimpers now turned to empty, silent gasps for air. Daryl saw her face drop as he spoke. He realised the severity of his words now, the callousness in his tone and he internally cursed himself. Why did he always have to speak before thinking? Her father had just been murdered in front of her, her sister is nowhere to be found and the baby she practically raised for eight months is probably dead, and he's shouting at her? He knew he was being a jerk but Daryl being Daryl found it hard to apologise. His face softened and he moved closer to her, his hand outstretched to touch her, but as it reached her shoulder she flinched and jerked away, as if she was disgusted by him. Just seeing the look of contempt on her face made his heart sink.

"Look, Beth. I'm sorry."  
Now too exhausted to fight back anymore she succumbed to his attempts of comforting her. He was standing inches away from her now, bringing his arms around her shoulders and awkwardly drawing her into his chest. She didn't reciprocate though secretly she welcomed the contact. He wasn't good at this stuff, he felt uncomfortable and gauche as he held her. She smelled of all the things you'd expect someone to in the apocalypse: mud, sweat and dirty cotton, but Daryl would swear that past all that there was a hint of vanilla.  
"Maggie is out there though, we need to find her! And Judith, I lost her, I lost her, Daryl! Please..." she bawled, snivels interspersed between her words.  
"We will find them, but not now. It's me and you for now, kid, but we'll find them soon. I promise", his voice was softer than Beth had ever heard it now. They broke apart and just at that moment a walker stumbled into view. Daryl dispatched it with one swift stab of his knife, yet as that one fell to the ground and he glanced up, a dozen more staggered out of the tree line to the road they were standing on.  
"Shit. Beth, c'mon quick" and he ran past her, grabbing her arm on the way and the unlikely pair started off again down the road.

...

The sun was finally setting on Georgia, creating a striking, swirling sky of oranges and reds. Beth was staring intently at the sun which was now peeking behind a cloud on the horizon, silently admiring the fact that beauty such as this can be found in even the ugliest of Worlds. They had at last stopped running and found a moderately safe clearing in the forest to set up camp for the night. Daryl was cooking skewered squirrel over a low fire he had made, and despite the fact that she was starving, Beth really wasn't looking forward to squirrel skewers.  
"Here ya go, get tha' down ya". Daryl passed her the meat and she took it without a word. She hadn't said much at all for hours actually. Quiet little Bethy she was, but even this was unlike her, Daryl thought. But then, what must she be feeling right now? She stared into the fire, the skewer gripped tight between her fingers, though she still hadn't tucked in.  
"Come on, Beth. I made that lovely for ya!" he forced a smile in the hope it could cheer her up but instead Beth glared at him with an uneasy half smile-half frown.  
"I'm not hungry" was her stern reply, though it lacked certitude as though it pained her to lie.  
"Quit your bull', girl. 'Bin hearing your stomach growl for hours", he retorted.  
Instead of replying, Beth set the squirrel down and crawled to a relatively dry spot on the ground to sleep.  
"I wouldn' sleep on that bare grass if I were you. 'Ground here is full o' June bug larvae".  
He had to be kidding. All the human guts she's seen in the past year and he thinks she's gonna worry about beetles? Beth snorted in derision.

Sighing, Daryl joined her on the ground. "Here" he whispered as he piled leaves into a small nest beside her, completing the makeshift bed by taking off his angel wing vest and moulding it into a pillow for her. The young woman turned on her side to observe the older man's handiwork before glancing up and focusing her eyes on his. "Thank you" she murmured, almost so quiet it was as if she had only mouthed it. They continued staring into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, though was probably no longer than ten seconds. His eyes had a beautiful blue hue, much like her own; they didn't sparkle like Beth's though, it was more like they were reflecting all the pain he'd ever felt right back at her, and she felt like she was looking deep into his sad soul. Suddenly Daryl felt awkward, stifling an uncomfortable snort and diverting his gaze elsewhere. "Pfft, come of it, girl", he grunted.  
"Wha'dya mean?" Beth asked, in the most innocent voice she could make. She was still looking at him, confused about the whole situation, like, how did she find herself lost in Daryl Dixon's eyes just then? _Daryl Dixon's?_ She knew exactly what he meant, but decided to play it off like nothing important happened, rather than getting defensive.  
"Nothin'", Daryl shrugged. He wondered for a moment if he'd imagined the whole thing. No, of course not. Despite him being confident he was not and never will be attracted to Beth in any way, shape or form, he couldn't help but feel slightly disheartened at her plain rejection. _God dammit, Daryl, keep it together._

They quickly said their goodnights as Daryl created his own little nest and snuggled up in his own arms in an attempt to keep warm. Understandably though, it was incredibly hard to fall asleep on rough leaves, crinkling with every toss and turn, the threat of Walkers, or worse, other people, constantly looming over them. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen minutes. By the time the pair had been trying to drift off for twenty minutes, Daryl packed it in and decided he ought to keep watch anyway. He laid against a fallen tree branch, over thinking that moment between him and the young girl who was pretending to sleep a metre away from him. His mind was filled with the same scene, playing over and over so many times he began to question how much of it he was now fabricating.

An uncomfortable silence surrounded them, until Daryl broke the ice.

"Beth... Are you awake?".


	2. Chapter 2: Too Good To Be True

**Hello again! Thanks for all the follows/favourites and comments so far, keep 'em coming! :)**

**Chapter 2: Too Good To Be True**

* * *

Beth continued to feign sleep. Daryl still knew, though, regardless of her pretence, that she was indeed awake. The way she was unnaturally still and didn't blink the way a sleeping person does gave it all away. He continued speaking to let her know he knew the truth.

"I'm.. I'm sorry about your daddy. He was a great man, a tough son-of-a-bitch and I'll...I'll miss him too, you know." He stuttered out, as if it pained him to be heartfelt. At the mention of her father, Beth's ears pricked up and she flickered open her eyes. "I know how it feels to be alone. How it feels when you think yer family is all gone and yer all tha's left."

Beth started sitting up, tears brimming as she absorbed the first real words of consolation Daryl Dixon had ever given her. "When Merle died, I was lost at first 'cause, like, that was it, my family was gone, until I realised all y'all were my family really, my blood, and without even knowing it y'all pulled me through." She was now staring fixedly at Daryl; as he opened up to her she could see him for the first time, properly. He always held this facade of a harsh, contemptible redneck, but all she could see right now was a down-trodden, sensitive man, whose hard-heartedness was misjudged. Daryl cared about the group, he loved Judith and she knew he was going to do everything to protect her. He made her feel safe.

"I..." She started but couldn't seem to get her words out. "I'm sorry," she muttered at last. Disregarding her words he carried on, as though if interrupted he wouldn't be able to express this level of emotion again. "Except yer not alone, Beth. It's shitty I know but yer still got, er, me... But I guess that's not much reassurance..." he said, a defeated look spreading across his dirty face.

She giggled to stop herself from crying. "Daryl, you're not that bad," she smiled. For the first time today he made her feel better and she genuinely seemed amused for a moment. She also became suddenly aware that this was the most she had ever heard him say at once.

"I'm honoured that you think I'm 'not that bad'," he smirked. " You've got Maggie, too. And I know you have, she's out there somewhere fer sure. She's a tough son-of-a-bitch an' all."

"I hope you're right," she sighed, returning to her position on her improvised bed. She turned on her side away from Daryl so that he could not see the heartbroken, glazed look upon her face, and the single tear that rolled down her cheek.

...

The next day was spent walking through trees and fields to no end- until they happened upon a vast plot of land: It was clearly an old farm, not as expansive as Beth's, more like a smallholding. There was a quaint farmhouse at the top of a winding mud track, surrounded on both sides by wooden picket fences and overgrown trees. On the other side of a small field stood a big, red barn which looked so dilapidated it might fall down at any moment. The place appeared suitably abandoned, with no walkers, or people, in sight.

Beth gasped at the site of the lot, "surely this is too good to be true...".

"Looks damn near perfect to me, then again, that's what we thought about the farm and you know how that turned out," Daryl retorted. They crept their way up the dirty path to the house, Daryl in front with crossbow at the ready, and Beth behind with her carbine. When they reached the house they began planning a strategy to sweep the building, but formations were difficult and almost useless with only two people. Daryl half expected Rick to be standing to the right of him, ready for the signal. His heart sunk when realisation hit him.

"Okay, kid."

"I'm not a kid!"

"Whatever. You cover me, we'll take downstairs first, when that's clear we'll make our way up. Don't be afraid to shoot. Okay?"

"Okay," Beth grunted back. Daryl quietly pushed open the door, stepping inside with his crossbow at eye level. The floorboard creaked as he traipsed past the threshold, alerting a walker in the next room to his arrival. Seemingly from nowhere, a tall, blonde-haired, walker woman wearing dungarees lunged at Daryl, snapping its jaws at his arm before he put it down with an arrow to the forehead. Beth was trembling.

"Fuckin' skanky farmer's wife! I'll bet the whole friggin' family's in 'ere an' all." Daryl hissed. He was right. The sound of the farmer's wife falling to the floor brought in the farmer himself, which Daryl shot before it even got close. "Finger's crossed they didn't have any farmer kids an' all," he jested. As soon as Daryl finished his sentence he heard a squeal. A young female walker had Beth pinned against the wall as she desperately tried to reach for her gun which she had dropped in surprise, all whilst holding the walker back. It was hastily put down by Daryl's knife. The young girl launched herself into Daryl's arms, shaking and quietly crying "thank you, thank you." As he held her he looked down at the walker collapsed at their feet, noticing blood and a trace of human flesh between its teeth. Daryl felt sick to his stomach at the sight, and he roughly checked Beth for bites to see if it was her skin the walker had chewed.

"What is it?" Beth asked, panicked.

"Were you bit?"

"What? No!" Daryl ran his hands over her body to make sure, but thankfully she was unharmed.

"Sorry. It's got blood on its mouth, it fed recently," the tracker explained. They exchanged worried looks and continued.

"Be careful from now on, girl. Yer gonna get yerself killed. Or both of us," Daryl growled, eliciting a scowl from Beth. The downstairs was now clear, so the pair made their way up the stairs to be pleasantly surprised by an outwardly empty floor. Until they heard faint sobs coming from a wardrobe in the smallest bedroom. Straining to listen, Daryl put his hand to his ears and detected the unexpected noise. He turned to indicate to Beth to follow him, and slowly pushed open the creaky door to the room. The cries were louder now, yes, definitely coming from the wardrobe. Beth bravely went forward to the side of the closet, hand on the doorknob, glancing at Daryl to wait for his signal.

He nodded. She tugged the door open and watched Daryl as he released a gasp, his eyes widening in astonishment...

* * *

**Authors Note: This is about to get a whole lot more exciting, hope my constant cliffhangers aren't winding you up! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3- 'Till There Was You

**Hello! Here were are with chapter 3, hope you enjoy it :) Please review, it makes me so happy to hear what you all think of my story, I literally read through new reviews with a huge smile on my face :D Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3: 'Till There Was You.**

* * *

Huddled in the corner of the closet was a tiny figure, whimpering, with its face turned away from Daryl as if that would lessen its visibility. Beth moved to see that the figure was a little girl with a short blonde bob streaked with blood. In fact, her whole body was covered in blood.

"Shh... We're not gonna hurt you, little girl," Beth soothed, her voice softer than Daryl had ever heard it. "Come out and we can help you, it'll be okay."

Whether it was the kindness in Beth's voice or sheer desperation in the girl, she slowly turned around and offered her hand out to Beth. Smiling her sweetest smile, Beth took the child's small hand in hers to let her know it was okay. Outstretching her arm, the little girl winced in pain and withdrew it, and both Beth and Daryl were made painfully aware of why the child was covered in blood.

...

"It hurts," the child whimpered, sitting on the bed as Beth gently dabbed at a severe bite on the girl's forearm.

"I know, sweetie. What's your name?" Beth looked over at Daryl and they shared a sad and knowing look. Beth looked down to hide her tear-filled eyes. "Huh?"

"Sophie," the girl squeaked. At this, Daryl's head shot up, his face dropped. Memories of Carol's daughter and his unavailing search for her came flooding back, igniting an instinct in him.

"Beth." The young woman met him at the other side of the room. "We need to do somethin'. Take the arm off, or somethin'!" Desperation altered the sound of his voice, Beth would swear it sounded almost squeaky. She offered him an apologetic glance and slowly shook her head.

"Daryl. You know it's too late for that, that only works when done immediately. Fever has set well in and she's not gonna last much longer, I'm afraid..." Beth whispered so that the child couldn't hear her.

"How can you say that? She's jus' a kid! Why are you so eager to give up?"

"Don't give me that! I'm not eager, bullshit! I'm just living in reality here. Jesus, Daryl! Wake up!" she shouted, which made Sophie cry even harder. Daryl stormed off down the stairs, jumping two steps at a time and Beth returned to her seat next to the girl.

"My sister did it." Sophie mumbled after a minute of complete silence.

"What, honey?"

"My sister, Jaycie, bit me. I was try'na to look after her. Mommy and daddy wouldn't wake up and neither would Jaycie and I was shakin' her and beggin' her to just wake up and then she did. But she wasn't actin' right. Then she bit me." Sophie recalled the events with glassy eyes, never taking her eyes off the door, as if trapped in a trauma-induced coma. Beth wasn't sure how to react. She'd always been such an shy, anxious girl who didn't always know what to say and when to say it. She would lose her words when put in awkward positions and stutter, she did it when Jimmy asked her out and it had been terribly embarrassing. This was one of those times, the circumstances were just a thousand times more harrowing. She stumbled over words, trying to construct something comforting, yet all she good think of was "sorry." She decided to change the subject instead.

"How old are you, Sophie?"

"8-and-a-half," she replied, with an angelic, sing-song timbre for a voice. Beth's affection for the girl grew by the second, which made Beth lament for she knew it would be harder to say goodbye. Beth considered relinquishing attachments, spending less time with her to make it easier on herself later, but quickly dismissed such a selfish thought. _What would my father think?_ She could hear Herschel's omniscient voice echoing in her head, "put the dying child's needs before your own. Imagine facing death without a single person to hold your hand, then you'll understand, Bethy." This made her think of how her father faced his death. Alone and surrounded by soldiers. Sacrificed. Choking back tears she turned to Sophie. "Hey. How would you like somethin' to eat?"

"Not hungry."

"Okay... Do you wanna go to sleep?"

"Not really."

"How about I sing you a song, would that make you feel better?" Sophie's eyes flickered up and she bounced slightly on the bed. "Okay," Beth laughed, "you get under these covers and I'll sing to you."

"Can you sing me one mommy used to sing?" Sophie pleaded, hope in her sunken eyes. Beth asked her what the song was. "Till There Was You," was her softly spoken answer. Sophie was lying against the pillows now, snuggled under the covers, slowly sinking into sleep. Sweat beaded across her tiny head, wetting the hair that hung around her face. Beth smiled when Sophie named one of her own favourite Beatles' songs.

"'Course I can, sweetie." Tucking a damp lock of hair behind the child's ear she took a breath and took hold of a tiny hand and began:

"There were bells on a hill,  
But I never heard them ringing,  
No I never heard them at all,  
'Till there was you,

There were birds in the sky,  
But I never saw them winging,  
No I never saw them at all,  
'Till there was you,

Then there was music and wonderful roses,  
They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew-"

Beth stopped with a sigh because Sophie had fallen asleep- or unconscious, she wasn't sure but she knew she was still alive at least.

...

Downstairs, Daryl was slouched against the floor and the wall, one hand holding up his head and the other idly scratching the floorboards with an arrow. He'd heard every word of Beth's rendition. He enjoyed her voice more than he'd care to admit; the exaggerated Southern twang she got as she sung, the way she could always lighten the mood. But not this time. This time she'd made him even sadder somehow. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to save these kids who he barely knew, but he supposed it was to do with how when he was a kid nobody ever tried to help him. Not when Merle had left him with his abusive father or when he was lost in the woods with an ivy-poisoned ass. He remembered wishing, despite how tough he pretended to be, that a stranger might rescue him from it all. But instead they would turn their nose up at him in his ripped up hand-me-downs, the kids at school would avoid him because he played too rough- when he wasn't playing hooky, that was. All his childhood, Daryl wanted someone to just care for him. He just longed for someone to actually miss him and search for him when he got lost or ran away, so he tried his damned hardest to search for Sophia. He wished someone would have given him unconditional love, and tried their best to give him everything he needed, so he adored Judith and risked his life, time after time to get her formula. He had hoped that one day someone would try and save him, so here he found himself, almost thirty years later, distraught that he couldn't save this little girl Sophie. He knew he couldn't but that still didn't stop him from trying to convince himself that Beth was to blame. But he couldn't. Beth was right. As the young woman climbed down the stairs to join him, he'd begun wondering why it is his efforts to save these children always failed, was he really _that_ useless?

"She's sleeping now, I... I don't think it will be long," Beth stammered.

"Beth, don't you think you'd be better off without me?" Daryl muttered, refusing to lift his head to reveal his tear stained cheeks.

"What? Daryl, where has this come from? Because you got mad? You're just frustrated, is all. I get it. But no, no way. I'd be lost without you. If I didn't have you I'd have been walker food earlier," she tried to smile but he wasn't even paying attention. Joining him on the floor, she placed herself a little too close for Daryl's comfort, but he let her. Unsure of how to console him, she simply laid her palm on his shoulder and stared at the side of his face, as if her eyes alone could command him to look at her. He didn't, though. He carried on engraving the floor, more furiously now.

"Daryl." the blonde asserted. "Daryl, _stop_." And just like that he ceased the scratching. In frustration the arrow was launched at the wall parallel to them, causing Beth to flinch. "Hey, it's okay," Beth cooed, much like she did when talking to Sophie. The redneck continued to ignore her, his head purposefully turned away. "Daryl!" She spoke through gritted teeth and finally he met her deep blue eyes with his own. She offered him a sullen smile and he tried his hardest to beam back at her, but all he could come up with was a tight-lipped frown. "It's okay," she reminded him and he nodded in response.

* * *

**Authors note: Wow, sorry for such a depressing chapter but it had to be done! Poor Daryl :( Oh, and no cliffhanger for once, omg!**


	4. Chapter 4: Dreams

**Warning: This chapter contains profound cuteness! I do like this chapter; I've done my best to make it dark, funny, romantic and adorable all in one! Enjoy and please review :)**

**Chapter 4: The Dream**

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"Bethy," Herschel beamed, strolling towards the young woman who stood at one end of the cell block catwalk, taking her chin in his wrinkly hands. She smiled back, glancing down at the floor and noticing her father's legs before meeting his kind, blue eyes again. She smiled an even brighter smile this time.

"I love you daddy," she whispered.

"Bethy, we all got jobs to do, remember? Yours is to be strong." His voice was vacant, and distant, almost. He planted a soft kiss on his daughter's forehead.

"Okay, daddy."

Beth closed her eyes as she spoke and a single-tear escaped, staining her cheek. She reopened them and was immediately aware that her father was gone. She panicked, searching all around her for some sign of him; she finally noticed, too, that she was no longer stood in the safety of Cell Block C, but rather, an infinite white space with nothing but herself contained in it.

"DADDY!" she screamed, but the sound just resonated harshly in her ears. She started spinning- or the room did. She couldn't tell. Beth yelled until the echoes were so loud she felt her eardrums pop. She collapsed to her knees in pain, clasping her hand over her ears, internally screaming. The walls were becoming apparent now as blood dripped from ceiling to floor all around her. The sudden burst of colour proved the room was not so infinite. In fact, it was tiny. So small that Beth felt claustrophobic. Her father appeared again, directly in front of her, bent down on his knees just like she was.

"You've failed me, Bethy." Her father's voice was cold and cruel, like she'd never ever heard it before.

"No, daddy, please," she sobbed. Herschel's face turned stoic and lifeless as a cut materialised across his neck, with no weapon or assailant in sight. Beth felt her heart stop as she watched her father fall on his side, blood weeping from his wound. She opened her mouth to screech "DADDY!" but she made no sound. All she made was breath. Her chest tightened and her face screwed up as she tried repeatedly, in vain, to call out. She felt helpless. Falling backwards in exhaustion she expected to hit the ground, but instead she continued plunging deeper into a seemingly eternal abyss.

...

Daryl entered the room to find Beth tossing and turning at the foot of Sophie's bed, half-sobbing into the quilt. "Beth?" No answer. He strode over to the girl and took her by the shoulder, shaking her gently at first, then more vigorously when she still refused to wake. She finally jolted awake, desperately checking her unfamiliar surroundings before clocking the hand still placed upon her shoulder.

"Daryl," she breathed, before bursting into fits of tears.

"Shhh. S'alright. Jus' a bad dream, is all," Daryl hushed, taking the small woman into his arms so that her head rested against his stomach and her arms around his waist. Beth was far too distracted by her nightmare to notice the intimacy this position gave the pair, yet Daryl was made painfully aware of it and how his body reacted to the touch. As Beth wrapped her slender arms around his hips, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck pricked up and a small wave of heat surged through his stomach right where Beth laid her head. He hated himself for it, but every fibre in his body at that moment demanded to feel her soft lips on his. He shook the thoughts out of his head and settled, instead, with gently stroking her silken, blonde hair.

...

Hours passed whilst Daryl and Beth took turns to watch over Sophie- waiting, really. They were waiting for her to die. Beth thought it was sick in a way, but so is the way of the World these days. She also wondered why Daryl was refusing to stay in the room with her. He made excuses to leave when it was her shift, and asked her to go when it was his.

"Won't you stay and keep me company?" She asked after relieving him of Sophie Watching Duty for a third time. He had made a move to scarper but her words caught him dead in his tracks.

"Nah, gotta go... Make sure no walkers come near the house," he mumbled.

"Please. Just for a lil' while."

The man gave in, nodding at Beth in place of a vocal reply before replacing himself in the seat by the bed. Beth sat at the bottom of the bed.

"You think others made it away from the prison?" Beth asked, hopeful, after minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"I dunno," was Daryl's truthful answer. Beth made a face at his less than helpful, conversation-killing response. She was beginning to regret asking him to stay, his presence offered nothing but sheer tension. He said nothing, didn't even look at her, so she just sat there and awkwardly twiddled her thumbs. Soon she began jiggling her head and puffing out her cheeks to provide some form of childish amusement, but when Daryl noticed, his face was far from amused. So she started making a popping sound with her lips, being purposefully annoying now so Daryl might at lease tell her to shut up. _That'd be better than nothing_. _Pop... pop... _ She was acting so juvenile, Daryl thought. He knew she was young but _dammit, girl._ He knitted his brow in frustration for a second, before stifling a snigger. Beth looked up at him, wide-eyed and triumphant, she had made him laugh if only for a second. She did it again, once, and he snickered again, causing her to giggle, and soon the both of them were in fits of laughter over nothing.

"You're damn near crazy, Beth," Daryl chuckled, standing from his chair to leave.  
"Made you laugh though, didn' I!" The blonde giggled. He gave her a side-ways smile and hopped off down the stairs. Moments later she heard the door bang shut and all was quiet again. She frowned. She missed him already.

...

As Beth watched Sophie intently whilst she slept, she observed how the little girl's breathing slowed down over the course of about half an hour. By the end of those thirty minutes the child's breaths were two-a-minute, and Beth realised it wouldn't be long. She sighed, closed her eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. Beth returned her gaze to the child and noticed that her breathing had suddenly ceased entirely. Her stomach lurched and she jumped out of her seat to check the girls pulse. It wasn't there. She was gone. Panic set in because Beth knew the girl would turn soon.

"DARYL!" She shouted for the hunter, but he had not returned since he left her earlier. She had no choice but to do it herself, and she quickly cursed herself for thinking she could wimp out anyway. Knife in hand, she moved it to the child's temple and shut her eyes tight. _Nobody should ever have to experience killing a child_, she mused, her hand trembling. She lined up the knife, looked away and sunk the blade into Sophie's brain, so that she never had to become one of _them_.

The quilt was pulled over Sophie's face just as Daryl returned. He walked in as Beth slumped down in her seat, a bloodstained knife held idly in her hand. His face softened with sympathy as he observed the young woman before him, whose face was so empty now he felt she was barely there at all.

...

"Why don't I sing you a song?" Beth and Daryl were huddled in blankets, surrounded by every pillow in the house and warmed by a roaring coal fire in the living room. The scene was reminiscent of the slumber parties Beth would engage in before the apocalypse, but for Daryl, it was a completely new, yet strangely satisfying situation. Daryl was sinking his teeth into some stale chocolate digestives he'd found in the cupboard and Beth was sipping some flat Coca-Cola.

Daryl groaned playfully, "Ugh, please no. A man can only take so much trauma in one day," he chuckled. She giggled back as she jokingly hit him with the cushion she was cuddling.

"I know yer kidding, you love my singing," she laughed again. "Ahem." She cleared her throat, exaggerating her cough. Daryl was unusually happy this evening... Maybe mountains of pillows, giggling and biscuits can even soften the heart of the surliest rednecks, Beth contemplated. "Well, he gave her a dimestore watch. And a ring made from a spoon. Every-" she started before Daryl interrupted with a "no-no-no". Beth glowered at him.

"Ya'll ready sung that one! If ya gonna do it, do one I haven't heard," he chortled. Beth rolled her eyes.

"Fine." She searched her memory for a different song and settled on one of her old favourites. Before starting for the second time she flashed Daryl a daring smirk, sending shivers down Daryl's spine. That wiped the grin off his face.

_"Well I hope that I don't fall in love with you  
'Cause falling in love just makes me blue,  
Well the music plays and you display  
Your heart for me to see,  
I had a beer and now I hear you  
Calling out for me  
And I hope that I don't fall in love with you._

As she sang that last line she smiled at Daryl and he smiled an awkward smile back. _Is she trying to tell me something_, he thought. _Of course not, Jesus Christ. _He looked down. She carried on.

_I can see that you are lonesome just like me,  
And it being late, you'd like some company,  
Well I turn around to look at you,  
And you look back at me,  
The guy you're with has up and split,  
The chair next to you's free,  
And I hope that you don't fall in love with me._

Daryl look sullen. _I won't do, thank you very much_, he said to himself bitterly.

_Now it's closing time, the music's fading out  
Last call for drinks, I'll have another stout.  
Well I turn around to look at you,  
You're nowhere to be found,  
I search the place for your lost face,  
Guess I'll have another round  
And I think that I just fell in love with you."_

Beth finished her song and simpered, looking proud of herself yet slightly embarrassed. Daryl had started daydreaming, partly about her, partly about nothing at all. He snapped out of it and offered a grin, clapping his hands light-heartedly. Beth retaliated by pretending to bow. He gave her a slight nod and jumped up, sending the pillows he was buried under flying.

"There's something I forgot to get out in the kitchen, be right back," he winked and hurried off into the next room. Beth wondered what it might be, ideas whizzing around her head. One that she couldn't shake was how increasingly aware she had become in the last two days of Daryl's unobvious, yet still apparent, sex appeal. She'd thought when they first met he was a scraggy, ne'er-do-well redneck, whose irrational behaviour was both unnerving and dangerous. Then she began to realise, mostly through his willingness to risk his life for this girl called Sophia, that he wasn't _all _bad, really. Over the winter months she became to respect him. He provided safety and his hunts for food never failed them when they were starving. By the time they were well settled into the prison she noticed his more sensitive side and she started to genuinely like him. She also couldn't help but notice his muscley arms and messy hair. He was kinda hot, she concluded, but she didn't fancy him. Not even when she hugged him that night Zach died. The contact sent sparks across every inch of her skin as he reciprocated her touch, but she still didn't fancy him, no way.

She was sure she still didn't, they were just friends and he was still a stinky redneck. The man in question re-emerged, disrupting her thoughts. He held up what appeared to be a bottle of red wine and a wine glass excitedly.  
"Seriously?"

"Sure, why not. I 'ant had good booze in yonks and I'm in the mood to get shit-faced drunk," Daryl defended, as if that was good reasoning. The blonde shrugged, a little can't hurt.

"Why only one glass? Aren't I allowed any?"

"This glass is for you, figured you'd wanna act refined or what not. I'll jus' take the bottle," he mocked. She shrugged again and held up the glass he passed her so he could fill it. _A bit_, _God damn,_ she cursed in her head as Daryl eagerly filled the container full with deep, red alcohol. She sipped it timidly while Daryl gulped whole mouthfuls. Finally Daryl stopped smiling, his rare happiness faltering. Beth supposed alcohol really was a depressant for him. She'd always wondered why alcohol was called a depressant drug when it always seemed to make drunk people ecstatic. She asked Maggie that question once to which her sister curtly replied, "well, you never saw Daddy in his drinking days."

After sipping half the glass, Beth began to feel woozy. She'd had alcohol once or twice at Thanksgiving but her daddy never let her have much, so her tolerance was dangerously low.

"What's up, girl? Can't handle yer drink?" Daryl taunted when he saw the fuddled expression the girl had. Daryl wouldn never admit it and Beth wasn't in a state to notice, but after being abstinent for so long, combined with barely eating for two days, the wine was taking its toll on him too after a few hefty gulps.

"Ya know, this feels like old times," Beth slurred only slightly, she wasn't _too_ drunk.

Ignoring her comment Daryl jested "The wine hasn' affected yer ability to never shut up then."

She ignored his comment as well, and now it seemed they were both having separate conversations. "Like, I miss this stuff. The simple stuff. Sure I do miss school, friends, electricity, a World without fear! But I also miss stupid things like stargazing, nail polish and lots and lots of pillows!" She giggled, throwing the cushion on her lap into the air and catching it.

"I know what you mean, I miss nail polish as well," Daryl quipped without missing a beat.

"You're such an ass," Beth sulked. Daryl was surprisingly hurt by her remark. "The thing is, we can still have the little things. We got pillows here, we could go out right now and stargaze if we wanted to and I bet there's nail polish-aplenty in this house, what with three girls living here," she justified.

Daryl appeared to be in deep thought for a few moments before he looked up nervously and almost squeaked out in a small voice, one Beth didn't recognise, "well, d'ya wanna?"

"Wanna what?"

"Stargaze..." Beth's face lit up and a small grin grew on her face, _bless him, he is trying._

"Sure."

...

The pair stumbled onto the grass outside, sloshing wine about as they tried to simultaneously drink and walk. Hilarity ensued, of course. They picked a nice spot by the porch, no walkers in sight and a great view of the night sky. Daryl half sat-half fell to the ground which induced even more amusement from both of them, and Beth sunk sloppily onto his legs by accident, prompting the biggest eruption of laughter of the night. Now her wine glass was empty, Beth was utterly inebriated, and Daryl, having downed the rest of the bottle, was suitably merry. Daryl read the wine label out loud, "17%? Good Lord this is strong for wine," Daryl drawled.

"Shhhhhhh!" Beth chided, dramatically exaggerating the noise. "You'll attract the walkers!" And for no apparent reason the pair once again fell into an episode of hysterics.

After ages passed, they fell silent. Choking out the occasional guffaw, they turned their attention to the stars at long last.

"Do you think that one day we'll find a nice house in the middle of nowhere, like the farm, but it'll be safe? In theory, we could dent the surrounding walker population eventually, like, their numbers have gotta go down after so long. And then we can build walls, make it even better. We could farm, eatin' home grown vegetables and squirrel for dinner, never going hungry! We could have venison on a good day," she added.

"Squirrel Day sounds like the best day," Daryl riposted. The woman just smiled crookedly to herself at his childish reply.

"And we could enjoy the little things again. Music and cooking in a real kitchen. Eatin' at a table and sitting on couches- sleepin' in comfy beds!" Her face brightened as she spoke, recalling happier times. "I just wanna have that chance to lay on the grass and not have a care in the world," she sighed.

"You think about this a lot, don' ya?" Daryl asked. She nodded in response. "Well, girl? Anythin' else you want?" He teased.

"Well yes, since you asked. I still wanna get married and have kids of my own. Always have, and the dead rising and eatin' the living never changed that." Daryl went quiet, _way to make it awkward, Beth._

"I guess I see your point, but none of that shit matters to me." Beth glowered at his cussing.

"So what's the point of it all then, what's the end goal?" She implored.

"To survive," was his simple answer. He raised his eyebrows smugly at her, but she wasn't convinced. Beth tore her eyes away from the tiny flickering lights in the sky and looked at the man to her right. She turned her whole body on its side so that she was facing him completely, and when he saw her move into this position he mimicked it, leaving very little space between themselves.

"To what end?" She queried. "What is the point in surviving if you can't _live_? That's no life! If there's nothing to look forward to, nothing to work towards then the hurt and the terror and the sacrifice is all for nothing." Daryl never took his eyes off her as she spoke. She reminded him of her daddy then, always the voice of reason, speaking the truth. He didn't believe her dream would ever come true, it was hopeless, but the reasoning behind it? _It makes perfect sense_, he admitted to himself. _And oh, God is she beautiful when she gets all passionate like that_. Whether it was the slight intoxication or not, Daryl would never understood what possessed him to think that. He looked away, his face slightly pink, as if he thought she could read his mind. He took a moment to compose himself before looking back at her pale, pretty face.

"We'll make it one day, Beth. We'll have horses on this farm, find some pigs maybe, and... and goats! It'll be jus' fine. And I'll let you lay on the grass as much as you want as long as you make me my squirrel pie, woman!" He mocked, in an emphasised southern accent. He was just humouring her; they'd never have that life, but this way she was happy. Beth giggled hard until drunken hiccups emerged through her shrieks of joy. Naturally, this made her laugh even harder. Both of them laughed. When they quieted, Daryl drifted his gaze back to the stars while Beth kept her focus very much on the hunter's face.

Feeling her eyes on him he slowly turned to face her, and without warning Beth's lips immediately found his. Her eyes closed, but Beth wasn't sure if this was due to passion or due to the fact she couldn't bear to see his shocked, and most likely disgusted expression as she kissed him. He was probably about to shove her away and scream in her face, and she didn't want to see the rejection as well as hear it. But he didn't do that at all. Daryl found himself embracing her, allowing her tongue to find its way into his mouth. He kissed her back, hesitantly at first and then with all the intensity of the World all at once. He explored her delicate mouth, and she responded by moving her fingers gently to his long hair, twisting and tugging ever so slightly at dirtied strands. They kissed with the heat and ferocity of the stars above them, hands sliding frantically over each other's bodies. Finally they parted. Beth broke away first, just to look at him, to drink in his rugged handsomeness. But this time apart seemed like an eternity to Daryl, giving him time to adjust- to see things clearly. _The hell am I doing? _Sudden realisation dawned on him, crashing into him head on. He removed one hand from Beth's waist and tugged the other, which was interlocked with her fingers, free. Not realising his change of heart, Beth went in for another taste of his rough lips.

"No. I'm... I'm sorry, Beth," he sputtered, before clambering swiftly to his feet and rushing back inside the house.

* * *

**Authors note: Omg. I literally just wrote this, went on Tumblr and saw a new preview for next week's episode where Beth practically says something I wrote her saying in this chapter! I'm partly amazed and feeling kinda psychic, but partly mad that now it'll look like I copied that bit -_- Oh well, you know the truth!**


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